chasing shadows
by cnohero
Summary: Not all Vampires are like the cullens. What happens to the people the other vampires decide to hunt? What if someone started to notice a trend in a vampire's victims. BTW it may take a few chapters before the cullens appear, but be patient.
1. prologue:

She turned the water up so high the heat left the skin with a stinging sensation. Then she let it all go. In a wracking hysterical sob all the emotion surged forward. An open water gate was not a good association more like a weakened dam finally cracking and exploding outward to drown the tiny towns below. The hot tears felt cold compared to the scalding water. The wracking sobs became a fit of coughing, in which she was afraid she might vomit. Dizziness over took her and she found herself in a heap on the bath tub floor, the hot water sending the hair into her face. The slow drain allowed the water to build up to the point that she sucked it in and out through half her mouth with her deep gasps. Eventually she felt her self drifting away…. Darkness.

She awoke cold, the water had reached over her ears, she'd rolled over on her back. The stinging water was now bitter cold. With a deep choking breath she reached up to turn off the tap. She lay there and listened to the water gurgle slowly down the drain. He numb fingers drummed the syllabes of her hectic thoughts on the tile above the tub. When the water had drained to a tiny puddle she bear the thought of standing.

Huddle in thermal underwear she huddled under the green tied quilt she'd made the year before attending school. Staring at the empty glasses of water she willed herself to sleep, but her mind would not settle. She did not want to remember, did not want to relive, not think it… anymore.


	2. Chaper 1:Making up for mistakes

**So sorry... if the prologue didn't make all that much sense, I promise it will all come together soon. **

**And as you all know, the whole "twilight" idea is not mine. **

Chapter 1 – _Making up for mistakes_

- Tuesday 5pm -

"You remember how to get there right?" Clayton quarried.

"Yes, I just stay on Highway 26," Mumbled Lindy into the phone, as she reached into her pocket to retrieve her vibrating pager. "I have to go, there's a trauma one coming in."

"Mm'Kay, I'll see ya on Friday", Clayton slurred.

He must be very tired thought Lindy. "Be careful, _please_."

"Yes, of course always!"

Lindy hung up, and silenced her pager once again, she drug her tired feet back to the front desk of the Emergency room.

"What's commin' in, Marge?" Lindy asked the buxom, white haired triage nurse.

"A thirteen year old, cold water drowning- was under for 15 minutes-before his dad found him". Marge was already stamping name plates and preparing the preliminary paperwork.

"Where do you want to put him Lindy- I mean Dr. Daws?" Mitch, the medical assistant asked as he typed on the computer. "The ambulanced called and their ETA is in ten minutes."

"Trauma room one," Lindy mumbled as she scribbled her signature on a prescription pad, and handing it Marge. "Send Mr. Hanks home with this, and give him 500 milligrams of Gentamicin to get him started-"

"We put the drunk in room one," Mitch interrupted.

"Crap, is he still here? Is there anything still open?" Lindy dropped her clipboard in frustration.

"The eye exam room is the only one left. There's the migraine in room two, the ear infection in three, and of course Mr. Hanks in room 4… You'd better start discharging." Mitch smirked." Unless you want to use the obstetrics room?"

Lindy gnashed her teeth. "Well move the drunk to the eye room and clear room one."

"Yes, boss…"Mitch sniggered, dragging his foot, and using his best imitation of Igor.

Marge rolled her eyes." Do you want me to page Teresa from her break?"

"Oh, yeah, and have CT ready, and page respiratory."

"Speaking of respiratory, will we be seeing Clayton this evening?" Marge raised her eyebrows over her horn-rimmed glasses expectantly.

"No, he's backpacking with Jeff this week." Lindy couldn't help smiling remembering how Clayton had begged Jeff to go hiking around Mount Hood's rim. Jeff was not a big fan of the great outdoors, but as Clayton's friend, he had endured many outside excursions. Some of which resulted in a few fractured bones, and a nasty case of pneumonia. "I'm picking them up at the trailhead on Friday morning."

The sound of thick liquid hitting linoleum echoed form the eye exam room, followed by a stream of profanities from Mitch. The drunken patient was coughing, and sputtering as vomit splattered the floor.

"I'm here" yawned Teresa, a small dark-haired nurse. She reached into the front pocket of her scrubs to find a stick of chewing gum. "Where's the fire." Her nose wrinkled as she caught the sent drifting from the eye exam room.

"It'll be here any minuet," supplied Marge. "And there's our respiratory therapist."

Duncan was sneaking into trauma room one, flipping on the lights and preparing his respiratory equipment. "S'up?" he grunted as Teresa, and Lindy joined him.

"S'up wit you?" quipped Teresa in her Porto Rican accent.

Duncan grinned as he tested an oxygen flow meter, but he did not respond to Teresa.

A loud beeping echoed from the parking lot and the E.R. bay. Mitch bolted forward only to come to a screeching halt has his sneakers squeaked right up to the door. It pounded open and a stretcher, pushed by there EMTs came unsteadily through the door. Mitch grabbed the end of the stretcher and angled it towards trauma room one.

"Thirteen year old, male, found unconscious at the scene. His father reports pulling him from the lake, and then starting CPR. We continued as we transported him, about fifteen minuets in route we got a pulse back, but he still isn't breathing on his own. Taylor has been bagging him the whole way here. We can't get any IVs in him, Doug tried four times. His heart rate is 55 beats per minuet; his temp is 94 degree's Fahrenheit. His blood pressure comes and goes we haven't been able to get a good reading. We've been trying to warm him up, but he hasn't even started shivering yet." The report came from Alden a seasoned search and rescue volunteer and county EMT that Lindy had met on several occasions.

Lindy was already bringing her fingers to the boy's neck feeling for the carotid pulse. Duncan had taken the bag and mask the EMT had been using to push oxygen into the boys lungs. "On the count of three!" Lindy yelled. The EMTs and the ER staff lined up on either side of the stretcher to grab onto the sheet beneath the boy. "Ready Duncan? "

Duncan gave a curt nod. "One...two…three!" he barked and the boy was lifted from the stretcher onto the exam table.

"Teresa, get me some lines, as big as you can get in his veins! Mitch, get some warm blankets and some warm normal saline from the IV stock up! Marge, call ICU and have them bring a Ventilator down, Duncan can't breathe for this kid forever, we have to intubate." The last sentence came out much softer than the earlier commands. Lindy pulled her stethoscope from around her neck and listed to the boy's chest. It rose and fell as Duncan pushed oxygen into his lungs. They were wet and full of crackling sounds; he had inhaled a lot of water.

"Get that thing out of my way!" hissed Teresa, as she pushed her way around the EMT's stretcher, to search for a suitable vein. Marge disappeared as she pulled the curtain closed. Mitch had taken off running and left more rubber from the sole his sneakers streaked across the floor.

Two of the EMTs, pulled the stretcher, and followed Marge to the front desk. The last remaining EMT was very young, perhaps nineteen.

"You… put the heart leads on him," Lindy directed the pale EMT.

"You new 'round here?" Teresa asked cracking her gum. She was tapping on the boys forearm trying to get the veins to stand up.

The tall, clean shaven, EMT nodded. "Is he going to be okay?"

"We'll do our best," Lindy said in her most confident voice. _Please… be okay_. She prayed in her heart, _you're too young to die like this_.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Teresa wink at the young EMT and saw him swallow. "It's all in the angle you use, and finding the right vein," Teresa educated the EMT. "Take this vein for example you can see how it gets wider in some spots-those are valves they are really hard to start an IV through. But this one… now that's a good one."

"Teresa! just get me a line," Lindy could feel her blood pounding in her temples. She wished she could make the boys blood move like that. "Duncan, how is he oxygenation."

"He's at 87 percent, and I have to give him a lot of pressure to keep his lungs open." Duncan was a tall, bald African American, who had moved to Oregon after a divorce. He was thin and well muscles; he was a hard-core cyclist. On weekends Clayton would sometimes join him for his stints up and down the coast, on their bikes. Lindy grimaced as she remembered the unseemly sum of money Clayton had spent on his new road bike.

"I'm going to have to tube him," Lindy said as she gathered her equipment.

Duncan nodded; he already knew what was coming, and what he would be needed to do.

"Easy Peasy!!" announced Teresa, indicating she has successfully placed an IV. "Where's Mitch? I need that IV fluid. Hey… be a peach, and get us some warm blankest from Marge would ya?" She cooed at the EMT. He disappeared around the curtain, his arms shaking.

"Ready?" Lindy looked at Duncan.

"You can do this," Duncan nodded.

"Yeah… you're right… I know I can," her voice shook slightly. Lindy placed her scope in her left hand and the breathing tube in her right hand.

It had been over a month ago…when she had last intubated a patient. It had been a drug overdose; he was obtunded and completely unresponsive. She had attempted to pass the tube, but his mouth was clouded with saliva. She had put the tube into his stomach instead of his lungs. He had vomited all over and sucked it into his lungs as Clayton had pulled out the misplaced tube. It took two more tries until she was properly able to place the tube. The vomit he had inhaled had given him pneumonia, and he had spent two weeks in the ICU, before he was able to breath on his own. "Everyone has an off day," Clayton had said. Lindy didn't have off days; she made it a point to be at the top of her game all the time. It was the first intubation she had missed in her three years at the hospital. The disappointment she had carried around made her cranky and quick to snap at people. Clayton had still stood by her, even when she threw his jacket at him and ordered him from her house.

Lindy took a deep breath, and swallowed. She nodded at Duncan, and he pulled the mask away. The throat was dark and moist as she shined the light attached to the scope into the boy's mouth. "I need his head tilted back," and Duncan immediately pulled the head back so the boys closed eyes were pointed to the back wall not the ceiling. He was so cold, but then she felt something warm brush her and that held the boys jaw, Teresa was spreading blankets across the boy. "Cricoid pressure" Lindy whispered. Duncan placed his strong hand on the front of the boy's throat. Then she saw it the white lines in the front of the throat, the vocal cords, and the gateway to the lungs. She slid the flexible rubber tube into the crevice, and pulled the scope out of the boy's mouth. Duncan immediately attached the breathing bag to the tube.

_Please be in!! Please be in!!_ She silently chanted as she listed to his lungs once more. There was a course sound of rice crispies at his chest as fluid swirled around, and… the sound of air moving through congested airways. "It's in," she announced with a sigh of relief.

She looked up to see Duncan smiling, and caught a wink from Teresa. Mitch stooped next to her, his hands on his knees breathing hard; the warmed IV fluid was running into the boys left arm.

"His heart rate is up and his oxygen is up to 99 percent," mused Marge from the doorway. An orderly bumped into her large backside, as he pushed bulky ventilator into the room. Duncan gratefully hooked the ventilator up to the tubing and started making adjustments to restore the boy's lungs to their maximum volume. Teresa was pulling out a thermometer to recheck the boy's temperature.

"Marge why don't you page Dr Clark, in ICU and let him knows we have a patient coming up to his floor?" Lindy asked with a smile. "I'm sure he won't mind coming for a case like this."

"You bet sugar," Marge turned on her heel." Oh, yeah, and the boys parents are in the waiting room, wringing their hands with worry."


	3. Chapter 2: Pass down

**Hang in there… one more chapter with a bunch of medical talk. Don't worry Twilight characters will appear later. Which by the way, the twilight characters belong to stephenie Meyer. We can't ever forget that on this site. **

**This one is a little long… I just got carried away.**

Chapter 2

_Pass down_

_-Tuesday 7pm-_

"Mr. and Mrs. Whipple? Lindy called softly into the waiting room.

"Yes? We're here!" a small woman exclaimed shuffling up to Lindy. She was followed by a stout man in swimming trunks. His ample belly hung over the front of his swimming suit, and was covered by course gray and brown hair. A towel was draped over his pudgy shoulders, and Lindy had to bite her lip not to giggle at the site of him getting up from the waiting room chair. He left a splotch of mud plastered on the seat.

"Please…. is Joshua alive?" whispered the distressed man, his voice cracking with grief.

Lindy pulled her most reassuring smile into place. "He's alive, and-"

"Thank god!" the small woman buried her face in her husband's hairy chest.

"Let her finish, Lynette!" the man sighed patting her shoulder; his voice was filled with acute relief. "…and? What were you about to say Dr… umm…? Dr?"

"Oh. Oh! I'm a Dr. Daws; I staff the emergency room in the evenings?" Lindy extended her hand realizing these people didn't' know her from eve. She shunned the typical Dr.'s lab coat and wore plain blue scrubs. Except for at meetings, where she was expected to look 'professional'.

Her hand was seized by the half naked man and pumped vigorously. It's a pleasure Dr Daws Now… about my son? "

"Oh, yes, of course, his heart beat is strong, and his oxygen saturation is up. But…" she paused distracted. _Did I ask Duncan to draw blood gas levels? He will probably remember even with out me writing out an order._

"But what! What does that mean?" the boy's mother was shaking with distress.

"But," Lindy continued. "He can't breathe for himself yet. He's stable!" she reassured them. "He was very cold so even though his brain was without oxygen for a while, the cold water may have preserved him. We are going to slowly warm him up from the inside out, and regulate his heart, and his breathing."

Lindy desperately wanted to tell them that everything would be fine, that he would be a happy healthy thirteen year-old after this. But she did not know if that would happen. _I can't lie; I must be honest with my patients._

"We need more time to see how things will work out. But for now we're doing all we can. _And he is alive_. Dr. Clark is coming into look at him, and then he will transfer to the ICU for observation. He may come out of this just fine, but there is the possibility that there is some damage." There she had said it as kindly as she could.

"And as for you Mr. Whipple, I'm sure your cold," she tried to distract the couple from their worry for their son. "I'm sure I can get Marge to bring you some warm blankets, and maybe some clean scrubs to wear until you have a chance to get more clothes."

Lynette, Joshua's mother, smiled gratefully at Lindy as she rubbed her husbands arms which where pimpled with gooseflesh. "Can we see him?" she rasped.

"As soon as Dr. Clark has assessed him we'll bring you back. I promise I'll let you know as soon as there are any changes." Lindy was not sure if seeing their son in this condition would be comforting right now.

She returned to the ER to review the chest x-rays the tech should have shot. She sighed with relief the tubes were all in the appropriate positions "How's his blood pressure?" she called to Teresa.

"Ninety over seventy," Teresa replied.

"Let's start Dop-aa-mine," Lindy stuttered as the chest film was tugged, unexpectedly, from her grasp. "Dr. Clark, it's nice to see you."

"Wish I could say the same," Dr. Clark muttered into his gray mustache. "This better be good Daws. I was at dinner with my wife, it's the anniversary of our….. What! Why is he intubated?"

"Well, Dr. Clark when a patient stops breathing we need provide a way to keep oxygen flowing through their blood." Liberty said in slow syllables. Honestly, what did he think she was she supposed to do? She was sure her tone insulted his intelligence, but she was annoyed by his attitude.

"Don't get cute with me Daws!" Clark snapped. "I was only supposed to be on call tonight, and you hand me an intubated, half drowned, thirteen year old boy. Look at this he probably has contaminated water spreading bacteria all over in his lungs." Dr. Clark pointed to the cloudy haze that represented Joshua's lungs on the chest x-ray.

"Well, Sir, I can't follow up with him in the ICU and man the ER. If you would prefer to watch the ER… I'll be happy to settle him the ICU. But otherwise, if you really like, could follow up on him, on Thursday when my ER shift is over, but someone needs to admit him to ICU now." Lindy's voice was sickenly sweet she never spoke to a supervising physician this way, but who cared if it was the anniversary of the day Dr. Clark's cat died… or whatever he was celebrating. A boy's life was what really mattered now. She felt a twinge of guilt for turning poor Joshua over to this man, but his need intensive care.

Clark snorted, "I'm just impressed you managed to get the job done right this time." He turned to the phone and dialed the head nurse to arrange for a room.

Lindy knew what the jibe had been directed at, but she refused to be bated into reacting anymore than she already had. She could not make Clark a personable doctor, but she could control herself.

"What crawled up his butt and died?" murmured Marge, as Dr. Clark marched away from the front desk.

"Lindy… the kid with the ear infection- his mom has really had it, and she want's to go home. Don't you think they've waited long enough?" Mitch was exasperated.

Lindy turned her attention back to her other patients and began wading through the hours of the night.

_- Wednesday -5am-_

"Doug, got my phone number," Teresa announced.

"That's great," Lindy replied absently as she wrote down her charting. "Who's Doug?"

"The EMT of course, the young one. You remember." Teresa plopped into an empty chair. "So, will you be changing your name when you get married next month?" Teresa quizzed the night had calmed down. "Will you be Mrs. Clayton, Lindy, and McKinley?" she giggled.

"I don't know," admitted Lindy. "I've been Dr. Daws for so long it would be pretty hard to change to Dr. McKinley, but I think it might hurt Clayton's feelings a little if I don't change my name."

"Does he ever get like… an inferiority complex about you being a doctor and him being a Respiratory Therapist?" Teresa was digging for the deep questions tonight.

"I don't think so. But there was that one time when he started to change a patient's medications without getting a written order from me… well without even talking to me about actually. Things were a little sticky then. He said he felt I should have backed him up when the nurse reported it. But I can't just let him do just about anything without talking to me about… I mean their patients and I'm ultimately responsible for what happens to them. "Lindy sighed. "At least he hasn't tried it since."

The phone rang interrupting the brief respite.

"Breaks over, now everyone is waking up and feeling crappy. They'll be rushing to the ER pretty soon." Teresa joked. She was funny when she went for long hours without sleep.

The rest of Wednesday passed in a flash.

_-Thursday 8am-_

Lindy peeked through the curtains of ICU room 206. The preteen she saw laying on the bed looked sleepy, but his eyes were open and focused on MTV which was blaring with an old _Bon Jovi_ video. He still had the breathing tube in his mouth, the ventilator still breathed for him, and he still had multiple IVs.

Joshua's father caught sight of her, and rose to cross the room. He now had on an _Oregon state University_ sports jacket on, a pair of kaki shorts, accompanied by flip-flops. It was a big improvement over the swimming trunk. "Dr. Daws? I've been keep my eyes open for you."

"Sorry, I meant to come visit sooner, but I've been trapped in the 'PIT'… Erg… aaa... I mean… the ER. Wow… he looks good! And… I wanted to tell you how great I think it is that you went into the water to save your son" she choked out. Lindy did not really know exactly what she wanted to say, so it came out a little awkward.

"Joshua, this is the doctor who took care of you in the emergency room. She also saved me from freezing to death in my swimming trunks" Mr. Whipple giggled taking Lindy's hand and drawing her into the room.

Joshua managed to smile around the tube in his mouth. His eyes watered, and he swallowed. Lindy could tell that the tube was gagging him, but that could not be helped. In order to wean from the ventilator he had to be awake.

"Hey, Joshua," She sat in a chair near the head of the bed and took his hand in hers and gave it a tiny squeeze. He probably felt he was too old to be treated this way, but even adults like to have their hands held when they are in the hospital. "I talked to Dr. Martens, she took over for Dr. Clark this morning, and she said that they might be able to take the tube out this afternoon. If you can stay awake and take deep breaths while on the ventilator."

Hope flashed in Joshua's eyes.

"Oh... and I wouldn't make any jokes about her name being the same as the shoe brand. She hears about it all the time and doesn't think it's funny anymore. But between you and me… I think her feet are so big, that she should start her own shoe company anyway." It was a dumb joke and she knew it, but it was the best she could do.

Joshua gave half a grin, and picked up a pencil and scribbled on a clip board, that lay next to his bed... He couldn't speak and this was his best means of communication.

He wrote:_ You really think it will come out?_

"Hopefully soon, you have been doing really well. We just want to make sure we cleared most of the lake water from your lungs," she answered truthfully. She spent the next two hours answering questions, and reassuring Joshua and his worried father.

Lindy crawled into bed that afternoon feeling good. She had not felt good about a patient outcome in a long time, it was nice. It reminded her of why she had wanted to be a doctor. Of course there were always sick people, coughs to cure, crying babies, drunks found unconscious in the street. But to really see someone on deaths door step and see them make it back was amazing. The feeling had sustained her through the last few days of work. Now, however, she was exhausted, her head pounded and all she wanted to do was sleep.

_-Friday 7am-_

The alarm clock blared, and white hot light flashed in the back of Lindy's head. She groaned and rolled over. Seven a.m. Why was she waking up at seven? She was a born night-shifter! Why in the name of heaven would she be trying to get up at seven in the morning!

"Am I supposed to be at work?" She mused out loud. Lindy caught her breath,"Clayton!" She was supposed to pick up Clayton and Jeff at the trailhead at Ten o'clock this morning.

She jumped out of bed, stepping on Smeagol's tail. Smeagol had been named by Clayton. "When he's bad we can call him Gollum" He had reasoned referring to _The Lord of the Rings_. The black and white cat mewed in protest and zipped under the bed.

He had lurked around the hospital parking lot for weeks before Lindy had coaxed him into taking food from her hand. His tail was crooked from some sort of accident in his past, but he was loved nonetheless.

Twenty minuets later Lindy was in Clayton's Nissan Frontier driving up highway Twenty-six. It would not be such a long drive if the highway did not have pass through Portland, which was almost always congested.

Pulling into the timberline trail head, Lindy sighed in relief she had was only thirty minuets late. That was pretty good timing, given her tendency to sleep in. She probably would have been on time, but she stopped at a drive thru for something to eat, she'd been famished.

The Trailhead was quiet with only two other cars in the parking lot. Lindy opened the door of the truck and walked around the trailhead stretching her legs. There were no sign of Clayton of Jeff, but it would probably take them longer than they had planed to descend the mountain. They could not have left earlier; they had no way of getting home. She had driven them to the trailhead on Tuesday before work. Clayton did not want to worry about anyone breaking into his truck while he was up the trail and he was also too cheap to buy a parking permit. _Too bad he's not too cheap to by the nine-hundred dollar road bike_, Lindy contemplated. Clayton had insisted that he could have spent a lot more money on an even more expensive bike, but he was trying to be 'careful' with his money.

_-Friday 12:30 p.m.-_

"Excuse me, but have you seen two men on the trail one with dark hair and a blue backpack the other blonde with a bright green backpack?" This is the second couple to come down the trail, and Lindy was starting to get a little nervous. Not really nervous, it was a long time before dark, and Clayton was very capable in the outdoors.

The backpacker who walked to his truck replied, "We saw those guys on… let me think… I think Wednesday morning? Do you remember Gale?"

Gale his companion did not look like she could remember her name let alone two other men on the trail. She leaned against the tailgate, pulling off her muddy hiking boots. She was covered with bruises, and bug bites. "Robert, if you want me to stay married to you; you will never put me through anything like that again!" She snapped. Her voice was course like she had done a lot of yelling already.

"Um thanks," Lindy retreated from the contentious couple. At least they had seen Clayton and Jeff, but that had been on Wednesday. How much longer would they be?

Lindy dialed Clayton's cell phone a second time hoping that they had somehow traveled into an area where there was reception." We're sorry but the customer you are trying to reach has traveled out of the coverage area," the monotone voice, blared through the phone.

_-Friday 5pm-_

Lindy ground her teeth in frustration. _I have better things to do than worry myself sick. How dare he do this to me? He knows I worry about everything. If only I'd been here earlier. He promised to be careful_. He thoughts were strained, and she was now VERY worried.

She fished in the glove box for a piece of paper. She wrote a quick note, and wrote C-L-A-Y-T-O-N in big letters across the top. She put rocks on all four corners of the paper as she laid it next to the trail marker. The note explained that she had gone for help, and that he should call her cell phone if she got this message.

With a sigh, Lindy climbed back into the truck and drove down the road back to the tiny town, Government Camp. She would stop at the ranger's station and ask some questions, maybe there were rangers up the trail and they could get in contact with them by radio.


	4. Chapter 4: The search

**Okay… so the imagery in this chapter might be a little too graphic, just to warn you ahead of time. I think rated T is appropriate, but let me know if I'm wrong. I have no claim to Twilight references, as you all know (but they're not here yet, the twilight characters I mean, sorry).**

Chapter 3

_The Search_

_-Tuesday 2pm- _

Barrett drummed his fingers on the map spread across the hood of his trooper. His brow was wrinkled with a mixture of concentration, and bewilderment. The same words, "five people", streamed repeatedly through his tired mind. Five people had been lost in the park around Mount Hood in the last three months. It was ridiculous that so many people could be lost in the area in such a short amount of time. _All hikers should be required to wear homing devices_, he mused to himself.

This was the third all day search, that had been mounted to find the latest lost hikers Clayton McKinley and Jeffery Strong. McKinley's girlfriend had assured him that she could find volunteers for another two additional searches if nothing turned up. He did not doubt that she could, it seemed like the whole town had shown up at the park to participate in the search. But did it really matter? It was a search for the bodies by this point. What made him think that this search would end any better then the other searches? More people meant that they could cover more ground, but it was also a bigger opportunity for more people to get lost or to break their leg out there scrambling across the rocks.

"Whatcha', lookin' at?" Bill Crandall, a deputy from Tillamook County asked. He was pouring coffee into a stained porcelain coffee cup, which he passed to Barrett.

"I think we should have these volunteers focus on this plateau. It's more likely that hiker would go there, and probably safer for the searchers. They must really love these boys to drive all this way to look for 'em," Barrett, admitted.

"Well, Jeff's preacher Strong's son and Clayton. Well… everyone who meets Clayton loves 'em. And him being Lindy's fiancé doesn't hurt either."

Barrett smirked at the bitter hot liquid. "They were engaged? So everyone feels sorry for her then?"

"No…they don't feel sorry…well, I guess they feel sad for her, but it's their way of paying her back a little."

"Huh?" Barrett was rolling up his map.

"Yeah, she's the doc who's in the ER most of the time. She used to be a lung specialist- I think, funny seein' as she's engaged to a respiratory therapist." Bill laughed at his own joke. "Ya-see, she spends a lot of time with people and they're grateful for that. Once we had a Latinate, who got burned when he tired to save a little lady from a fire. It was 'bout a year ago. He inhaled a lot of smoke and it burned his lungs real bad. She took real good care of him 'til the helicopter could take him to Portland. Then when he insisted on going home, she would go over to his house night and do, whatever it is they do to fix a guy's lung, so he could be at home with his family. He had two kids, five and seven, and Cynthia needed to be at work, to earn some money. So lindy would even take them home to look after 'em if Bill was too tired to keep an eye open, so he'd get some rest. Just stuff like that."

"What happened to 'em, Bill?" Barrett didn't know why he really cared; he did not want to worry about one more officers' wellbeing, just now. He had a bunch of off duty policemen scouting the wilderness today.

"The Latinate? He can't be out with the force anymore. He can't run like he used to-gets short 'o breath. But he works fer the county doing computer stuff. He somehow developed a knack for that stuff ha'fterwards" Bill's slurred speech was atrocious.

The coffee tasted a little better once you got used to it. Barrett's radio suddenly crackled_. Not another sprained ankle_? He groaned internally.

"-_ey, Barrett we got something here-_ "

"Whatcha' got? And where?"

"-_near where the creek loops back to the east, one of the volunteers found it. - He brought his hunting dog, an English pointer. "_

"What is it?"

"-_ah_…" crackling static, "_I think you should come take a look_."

"Dammit, Bart what is it?"

"_-It's... a HAnd-"_

It was one of the strangest things Barrett had ever seen. He had seen a lot of dead bodies found in the mountains, but this…Clayton McKinley had been found beneath a rock...literally. Not just any rock, a rock the size of his wife's station wagon. His hand had been found peeking out of an old badger hole. After trying to dig around the limb they ended up bringing a scoop attached to a four wheeler. They dug two feet down to base of the rock, but still couldn't reach the rest of the body. Finally some hydraulic braces were borrowed from a local mining company, were used to shift the rock away, and there was Clayton. _All_ of him. Not all in one piece, but pretty much all of the parts could account for a single man.

It had to be Clayton, a fireman insisted. The torn shirt was the one he was reported to have been wearing. Barrett was not quite sure, it was impossible to know for sure, maybe with dental records.

It was bazaar there was no blood. Not a drop, just tissue. It was like formaldehyde had been flushed through the body before it was diced up and buried. As though the undertaker had already done his job, to make the skin pale, and to prevent the bruised-boated appearance that was found on dead things. A shiver ran up Barrett's spine. How had Clayton gotten under the rock? The rock had clearly rested in this same spot for ages. There had been no signs of digging prior to their excavation, no signs that the rock had slid one way or another. How could Clayton manage to smash himself with such a rock? There had to be a rational explanation, but Barrett could only stare, as did the rest of the crew. It took some time, after a volunteer tapped his shoulder, before Barrett could shift his attention.

"What do we do now?" asked the small balding man.

"Bill, Marty call the ranger station, and the guys up the road. No one comes up here today, or tomorrow 'til we clear this up some. We'll need to..." Barrett had seen something out of the corner of his eye that made him pause.

A blonde, tired looking woman, in her late twenties, was curled up on the ground her chin resting on her knees. She stared at the exposed excavation site, unblinking. A tall, square jawed Native American man dressed in blue and red, laid his hand on her shoulder and whispered something to low for Barrett to hear.

"What is she doing here?" Barrett roared at the man comforting the woman.

Aldan had kept Lindy in his sites through the whole day; they had forged streams, scurried over rocks and had taken very few breaks.

Aldan felt very at home in the outdoors, and he found himself whistling his favorite folk song. The he abruptly stopped. "Sorry, is my whistling annoying you? I won't do it if it bugs you." How could he be so dense? Lindy was worried sick, and here he was enjoying himself.

"No, its fine. Maybe someone would hear it." Aldan doubted she really like it. And he was unwilling to state the obvious, that the odds were very slim, that either of the men would be found. Especially after all the freezing rain that had fallen each night.

"Hey, remember when Mary, Clayton, and Duncan dressed like elves and whistled that song at the last years Christmas party? They had inhaled helium and Clark laughed so hard he cut wind." A smile lit Lindy's face; it was the first time in a week.

"And, you wore the hat with antlers on it… and they kept flapping to the side when you walked under the doorway with the mistletoe...hoping Teresa would walk underneath it too get to the punch bowl."

Aldan was usually too tall to walk through a doorway without bending down. He ran his fingers through his hair, as a flush spread from his neck to his hair line. "That was _some_ punch! Hey, do you wanna take a break? We haven't been drinking much water today."

"I'm not really all that thirsty."

"Well, I am, can we stop for a sec?" Why was she so stubborn? Alden hated to be the one to ask to rest. But Lindy was possessed with an unhampered drive this week. Alden leaned against a fallen log to take a swig from his water bottle.

Lindy crouched to the ground, slipped her shoes off and rubbed her feet.

"Blisters?" Alden inquired.

Lindy shrugged, but her head jerked up to look down the trail. A figure in a red rain jacket was approaching.

"Did you hear? They found something over by the rive!" the figure shouted.

"Where?" Lindy was on her feet again, passing impatiently waiting for the figure to come closer.

"The east side, before the narrows." Alden recognized the figure of Rodger Beckett, the city librarian. Volunteers had really come out of the wood work Alden mused. He turned to smile encouragingly at Lindy only to find she was not there.

"Lind? Lindy! Dr. Daws, stop!" Alden spun on his heel and chased after the Lindy's green parka, as disappeared into the trees. He had to stop her, Barrett had insisted that he keep and eye on Lindy. If a man valued his peace of mind, then Barrett Sanchez could not be crossed.

She tore directly down the mountain side towards the river, it did not take a rocket scientist to figure out where she was going.

Alden ran faster worried he would loose her in the trees. Finally he could see her blonde pony tail bobby strait ahead. "Lindy! Please, wait up!"

"What if someone needs help? What if someone is hurt?" Lindy called over her shoulder.

Alden knew that she hoped that that someone who needed help was Clayton, but there was no guarantee. Rodger had only said that something had been found, he had not specified if it was a person, an article of clothing or…Alden felt his stomach twist. He knew that most of these search and rescue trips rarely ended happily ever after. He convinced her to walk once they reached the river bottom, but they rendezvoused with some other searchers only to find they were headed in the wrong direction. Lindy simply changed course and took off running once again. Alden's lungs and legs took up a strong protest as he followed her lead. Lindy was too far ahead too see now, but at least he knew where her path would run.

When he saw her again he realized he was too late. She was sitting on the ground, her legs pulled up beneath her chin. She was looking ahead at what was a large crowd of men.

A huge bolder had been wedged out of the way, and there was something spread across the ground before it. At first Alden was not sure what he was looking at. When the realization hit him, he felt all of his air escape in a gasp. Nothing in all of his years on the ambulance crew, as a fire fighter, or as a search and rescue worker had he ever seen anything so disturbing. The site was gruesome to say the least, it was impossible to identify what the tissue had come from. The only clue was the clothing, and torn hiking boots. There was something very wrong with site, aside form its disturbing subject matter. Something about the scene could not make sense in Alden's tired mind.

His rough brown hands found Lindy's shoulder. "Lindy?" his voice came in a hoarse whisper. He could hear Barrett Sanchez yelling and saw him gesturing dramatically, but all he could think about was getting Lindy away from this place as soon as possible.


	5. Chapter 5: The Breakdown

**A/N: Okay so we're almost done with the sad stuff, hang in there. **

**Disclaimer: Any references to the Twilight series are not mine, they belong to Stephenie Meyer.**

_ Chapter 5_

_The breakdown_

_-Wednesday 3pm- _

At first she did not really believe it was true. She had expected to receive a call that denied everything she had seen. She waited to hear the Detective from Hood River call and tell her there it was a mistake that they had found Clayton-alive this time. Maybe he would have a broken leg, and that was why he had been lost. Maybe they would find that the body they had found was someone else's. Maybe it had been all a dream, she would wake up, it would be Friday morning, and she would go to the trailhead to find Clayton and Jeff waiting patiently for her to pick them up. Every time the phone rang she would grab the receiver anxiously, only to hear Teresa or one of her other friends offering words of love and concern. Lindy remembered saying, thank you, over and over again, sometimes at inappropriate times cluing the other person that she was not really listening. The 'real' call never really came; instead there was a knock at the door.

Lindy jumped up slipping on a pile of papers spread next to the couch, they tore and she scrapped her knees painfully against the wood floor. The visitor had to knock a second time before Lindy was able to answer the door. It was Bill Crandall and another officer she did not recognize.

"Lindy…Err…aaa Ms. Daws." Bill took off his brown wide brimmed had and tucked it beneath his arm pinning it to his side. "May we come in?"

Lindy felt herself nod, her mouth had gone dry and tightness had filled her throat.

"The tests came in this morning, I'm afraid that its results are conclusive the body we found is Clayton McKinley." Bill had said all this while staring at his worn leather boots. He glanced up surreptitiously to see how she was taking the news.

A high pitched ringing filled her ears, and she realized she had quit breathing. "Thank you for telling me," Lindy forced herself to croak.

"Is…is there anything we can do for you ma'am," the other officer asked nervously.

"No, thank you," Lindy replied with a ragged gasp. She held open the door hoping the two men would get the hint. Lindy did not want to fall apart in front of them. The officers exited the doorway, and walk to their SUV, heads bowed.

Lindy drug herself to the bathroom. She sat, shaking uncontrollably, on the toilet lid and stared blankly at the heating vent. The furnace kicked on and a warm surge of air snapped Lindy out of her zombie like state. She stripped and climbed into the shower.

She turned the water up so high the heat left the skin with a stinging sensation. Then she let it all go. In a wracking hysterical sob all the emotion surged forward. An open water gate was not a good association more like a weakened dam finally cracking and exploding outward to drown the tiny towns below. The hot tears felt cold compared to the scalding water. The wracking sobs became a fit of coughing, in which she was afraid she might vomit. Dizziness over took her and she found herself in a heap on the bath tub floor, the hot water sending the hair into her face. The slow drain allowed the water to build up to the point that she sucked it in and out through half her mouth with her deep gasps. Eventually she felt her self drifting away…. Darkness.

She awoke cold, the water had reached over her ears, and she'd rolled over on her back. The stinging water was now bitter cold. With a deep choking breath she reached up to turn off the tap. She lay there and listened to the water gurgle slowly down the drain. Her numb fingers drummed the syllables of her hectic thoughts on the tile above the tub. When the water had drained to a tiny puddle she could bear the thought of standing.

Wearing thermal underwear she huddled under the green tied quilt her mother had made before she had moved to Oregon. Staring at the empty glasses of water next to her bed, she willed herself to sleep, but her mind would not settle. She did not want to remember, did not want think about it… anymore.

* * *

-Thursday 4:30am-

Lindy stared blankly over the edge of her bed trying to think of anything but Clayton. She counted the hardwood planks covering the floor, she read through the titles of the CDs in the rack next to the bed. She made lists of the medications she prescribed so often. All of the painkillers, the antibiotics, the blood pressure medications. She listed their drug interactions, their pros and cons, their dosages and any other trivial fact she could dredge up from her mind. Finally she had run out of things to think about, she crawled across the floor to the bookcase to look up the dosage for antifungal medication that she could not remember. As she pulled a large volume from the shelf two more books slipped to the floor. One was a book on ethics, and one on tying hooks for fishing. The later book had been Clayton's; when this thought registered a stabbing pain grew in Lindy's middle. She seized the edge of the book and chucked it across the room into the closet out of site. Her eyes drifted up to the rest of the books in on the shelf. When she came across one of Clayton's books she threw it roughly into the closet with the others. Thirty minutes later a cluttered pile had formed spreading into the room as the closet was no longer able to hold all of the items that reminded Lindy of Clayton. There were books, T-shirts, coffee cups, towels, jewelry given to her as gifts, hiking boots and several other items. Many of these things she had cradled lovingly while Clayton had been missing, now the site of these objects were painful to behold.

Lindy staggered into the kitchen the clock above the oven said 5:30am. She was not sure what day it was. She had turned the ringer off on the phone, the number fifteen flashed showing the number of messages on the answering machine; Lindy had also ignored the occasional knocking at the door. Her stomach ached terribly, she pulled open the fridge opened a Tupperware of some unidentified substance, sniffed it and placed the entire container in a new garbage sack from under the sink. A half curdled gallon of milk followed, by the rotting contents of the vegetable drawer also found their way into the trash bag. She placed it next to the door to be taken out. The thought of eating made her throat tighten; there was no way that she would be able to keep anything down.

Sméagol padded into the kitchen, wide eyed, his tail sinuously shifting from side to side. He had passed through the house all night crying for attention, Lindy was sure he was missing Clayton too. She glanced at his food and water dish, she filled both wondering how long it had been empty. Sméagol rubbed against her leg letting out a tortured yowl, he pawed at her leg imploringly.

"You already have more than you can eat what more do you want!" the cat rubbed his cheek against her foot and howled mournfully, again.

"Shut up! _Shut up_, Shut up!" Lindy was surprised as the words exploded in cracked voice that did not sound like her own. Sméagol darted, out of the kitchen in fear, claws scratching across the slick tile. _What is wrong with me?_ her mind ragged.

"I'm so sorry Sméagol!" Lindy wailed as in a chocking sob as she slid her back down the wall to huddle in a ball next to the oven. _Why did he have to go? Why did this have to happen? What had she done to deserve this punishment? It was not fair! There was no other man as kind and as full of love as Clayton, why did he have to die?_ She remembered having similar thoughts when the town postal worker had been hit by a drunk driver_. Why was life so unfair! If there is a god why would he let things like this happen? _

"God, if your there, I'll do anything if you send him back. I'll serve medical missions, I'll volunteer more time for charity, I'll donate all my money, I'll study until I find a cure for some horrible disease. I'll never swear again, I'll never... I'll never… anything you want from me. _Anything_! I can't do this without him! I can't bear to be here alone. I can't stand this pain! I'll do anything if I can just have him back! Please, _Please_, I beg you! Oh please…" Lindy's poor excuse for a prayer was spoken in an anguished voice rising and lowering in intensity and pitch. She was relieved that she was alone and no one could hear her, but yet she was still _alone_. Sméagol rubbed his head against her hand, as if he had somehow knew how alone she felt. He pressed his face against her check and purred blowing fish scented breath into her face.

* * *

-Friday 1pm-

"It's broken. See? The scaphoid bone is fractured can you see it?" Lindy pointed to a tiny deformity on the X-ray.

Marge nodded. "I guess. I can't see much of anything, but you're the doctor. You want me to call Dr. Martin? Can it be fixed surgically…now? It's been several weeks since she fell."

"It's started to heal incorrectly. I think we need to refer her to one of the orthopedic surgeons in Portland or Vancouver. Its way beyond my skill to fix this mess." Lindy walked away from the bright lights and sat at the table in the break room. She pulled the phone towards her and reached into her lab coat pocket to pull out a slip of paper. She waited what felt like and eternity for someone to pick up the phone.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Martin from Westland Hospital. I was told that you have received the body of Clayton McKinley is that correct?" Lindy pushed her guilt of impersonating Dr. Martin aside as she listened carefully.

"I'm sorry doctor, but I'm not at liberty to say" the voice on the other side of the phone responded.

"Well, his mother told me that his body had been turned over for investigation. I know that I have no right to ask about it, but you see I think I have a patient who's life may depend on what marks are on that body. I have a boy in the ER with similar bite marks. Please, it's important. I have to know what killed him." Now she was making up patients how far would she go to find out what had killed Clayton? _As far as it takes_, she thought to herself.

"I'm sorry ma'am.. I can't help you." There was a long pause on the line. "Just…well… let me ask the forensic analyst if he will take your call."

_So they do have his body_, Lindy contemplated. At the funeral the casket had been closed, and no one had bothered to see if there was anything actually inside. No one would really want to know exactly what had happened to the body… No one but Lindy that is.

"Ves?" a heavily accented voice came over the line.

Lindy took a deep breath and pushed the heal of her hand into her closed left eye, as she used her false story to hunt for details related to Clayton's death. She told the foreign man a heart wrenching story about an injured boy. She was curious about the marks found on the body, because she suspected there was a correlation to the marks found on her 'patient'. "Are there any clues about what attacked him? Anything that might help me treat this boy?" She added the last question to make her curiosity sound innocent.

"I'm zo very sarry doc-tor. But it could not vee zee zame animal dat attacked jur boy. Zee marks on zis body are unlike anyzing vee have seen before. I am not convinced zat zey ver made by an animal. Perhaps zey ver from an elaborate murder. Zey are not bite or claw marks, more believable zat zey vere from a sharp cutting tool. Zere is a doc-tor in Portland who z-specializes in outdoor injuries maybe he vill be able to help jue."

Lindy pretended to write down the phone number that was given to her; she fished through her mind trying to find away to gain more information. She could not think of anything that would not look suspicious so she thanked the man and hung up. She sighed and looked up to see Duncan sitting on the edge of the table. He was dragging his finger absently around the rim of a coffee cup.

"So where is this 'patient' of yours?" he asked cocking his eyebrow mockingly.

"I just… just hate not really knowing what happened." Lindy dropped her forehead onto her arm that rested on the table. There had been countless rumors and theories. That aliens had done this terrible deed that a rock had simply fallen on him, and even a rumor that Jeff had murdered Clayton and faked his own disappearance. Lindy could not agree with any of these crazy ideas, yet she could not explain the situation in any other way.

"You know you need to get out, do something besides set at home and stew over this. Some of us are getting together at Matt's club tonight, you should come."

"You know I don't drink, Duncan, why would I want to go?" she traced her finger along the faux word laminate on the table.

"You don't have to drink to have fun…isn't that what you always used to say. Just come over and play pool or something. I bet that if you and I teamed up we might actually give Parker a run for his money in a game of eight ball. You remember Parker right, the tech from radiology?" Duncan just wanted her to return to her normal self, but Lindy doubted she would ever be the same.

"I don't think I'm ready for that," Lindy stood up and walked back to the front desk to finish her charting.

She had been filling out an application requesting a new residency in another state when a loud exclamation broke her concentration.

"There she is! I told you she still worked here." A boy in a wheelchair was rolling across the ER bay in her general direction followed by two adults. "Dr. Daws I was hoping to see you before we left."

Lindy's mind when blank. Who were these people? She knew they should be familiar.

A stout red faced man extended his hand. "Thank you for all your help and encouragement it has really made a difference."

"Sure," Lindy returned the handshake, but could not hide the puzzled look that came across her face.

"You don't remember me." It was a statement of fact not a question that was spoken by the boy in the wheelchair. His excited expression had fallen, and now he was flushed with disappointment.

"Come, now, Josh, the doctor can't remember everything." The boy's father placed a hand on his shoulder.

_Josh. Josh? Who was Josh?... Oh! Josh!_ She made the connection in her mind. How could she forget Josh? The boy that had been the cold water drowning victim several weeks ago. It had become very difficult to wean the boy from the ventilator. Dr. Martin had called her several times while she had been hiking trails searching for Clayton. After returning home after each day Lindy had stopped at the hospital to assist Dr. Martin in finding ways to improve the boy's strength so he could breath on his own once again. It seemed like it had all happened in another lifetime.

"Of course, I remember you! It's just been a long week and my mind is a little slow today. Forgive me. I'm so happy to see you!"

"I wanted to ask…well never mind." The boy stuttered.

"Oh, don't be silly what do you want to ask?" She reassured.

"Well, even though I've been sick the guys at school insisted that the teacher leave my spot open in the play. So I still get to act on Tuesday the last night of the play. And… I was wondering if you and Dr. Martin would like to come see it?"

"Would we? Well, I can't speak for Dr. Martin but I will be there!" Lindy crouched down to look Josh in the eye. "That is so cool. I can't tell how excited I am."

"Cool. I didn't know if you'd want to. Duncan said you have been really busy lately, and that you might not come, but he also said he would pound on your door until you came out then he would drag you to the play kicking and screaming if he had to." Josh laughed as his parents started pushing him to the hospital entrance.

"Well, Duncan doesn't know everything. And I am not about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me go around 'kicking and screaming'." Lindy laughed. Do I really look that bad? She wondered in the back of her mind. She returned Josh's wave, and went back to the break room.

"When is everyone going to Matt's?" she asked Duncan who still sat on the table.

"Nine-thirty," Mitch answered from his stance in front of the microwave. The smell of microwave pizza spread through the room. "You comin'?" Mitch smiled around the spoon that he had stuck in his mouth.

"I'm thinking about." Lindy responded.

"Well stop thinking about it and just go!" Marge pushed Lindy lightly out of the doorway, and walked to the fridge. "Honestly child! What are we going to do with you? You'll be an old maid like me if you don't go out once in a while."

Lindy smiled in reply, but she felt a nervous tightness in her stomach. She was not forgetting about Clayton she reminded herself she just had to try to keep going.

* * *

-Friday (same day) 10:30pm-

"Sit down! No one wants to hear you sing another song! You hear me Alden Black!" Parker laughed.

Duncan and Lindy had beaten Parker and a short redhead named Mitzy for the second time that night. Lindy was normally much better at pool, and she usually enjoyed it, \ but she did not feel like she could really focus on the game. He mind kept leaping sharply away from things that reminded her of Clayton. Since one of those things was Duncan, whom had been one of his best friends, it had made the game much more intense than usual.

"Come-on, one more game" Mitzy begged.

"No really, I've had enough; I think I'm just going to get a coke." Lindy handed her pool cue to Duncan, ignoring his annoyed look. "Get Mitch or Bill to take my spot."

"Lindy, we're kicking their butt, just like I told you, just one more round," he pleaded.

Lindy shook her head and walked to the bar. Alden staggered to the stool next to her. "What kind-a-drink can I buy ya Lindy?"

"I'll have a coke," Lindy steadied Alden as he slipped forward on the stool.

"Two rum and cokes!" Alden announced to the bar tender waving two fingers in the air.

"Oh, no… just coke for me thanks," Lindy corrected making eye contact with the bartender and shifting her eyes to Alden. The bartender winked and nodded, taking the hint that Alden should probably have regular coke as well. "So, have you spoken to Teresa yet tonight?" she asked Alden so he would not notice that the bartender was not pouring any rum.

"Nah…I'm not drunk enough to do that yet." Alden said. Although in Lindy's mind he was too drunk to have a conversation with anyone. "Ya know what… you look like…" Lindy steeled herself for a crude word. "... really tired." Alden finished the phrase without swearing. "An…Lindy I'm soooo sssorry, it's all my fault you're so sad."

"Alden," Lindy whispered softly, reassuringly. "It is absolutely not your fault. What are you talking about?"

"I was 'posed to stop you from seeing that. I meant to keep you away from the site where they found him. But… I couldn't tell you no. Didn't know how to stop you. So Sorrrry."

"I… I wouldn't have listened to you anyway. I just… can't believe he's really gone." Her throat felt tight, but she refused to be seen crying at a bar.

"Yeah, know what ya mean."

"I don't understand it. I've been trying to figure it out. But I just can't figure out what did this" she was speaking more to herself than to Alden.

"You don't want to know 'bout it…'bout them. They be really terrible, I hear." Alden looked glassy eyed at the mirror behind the bar.

"Who? Who are 'they'?" Lindy asked sure that Alden was talking nonsense, but still was curious about his delusion.

"The cold ones," Alden propped his head on his hand and sighed.

"What are the 'cold ones' ?" She asked.

"'S… a story my people tell, but I don't believe 'em but sometimes things like this makes me think they real. Maybe my brother is right. He believes in all them stories, and legends and stuff."

"I didn't know you had a brother, Alden."

"Yeah, he lives back at the res… I think."

"Where is that?"

"It's back over by La Push. Its pretty there I miss it sometimes, but I couldn't stand the way it feels to be separated from everyone else ya know?"

"So your brother believes in the Cold ones?"

"Yeah," Alden snorted. "He called me a several months ago telling me they left for a while. He was all excited and asked me come back because it was 'safe' for me to live with the white folks again."

"So…what does he think they are?" this was strange and unbelievable but still made the hair on her arms stand on end.

"They're supposed to be these creatures that suck the blood outta your body; they are cold to the touch and move really fast. Kind of like those things in that TV show with that Buffy girl, but they got it all wrong according to Billy. They not scared of light, and all the garlic in the world won't save you as far as he's concerned."

"Is Billy your brother's name?"

"Yeah, he has a few kids, they are really cute, or they were now his girls are married I think Jake is the only one left at home."

"So he believes in Vampires?" she asked outright.

"Yeah, silly isn't it? But that's my brother. He tries to keep the traditions like my dad did. His health isn't too good now a days, so I don't know what he does, but he was on the council and everything. I guess they don't care how crazy you are as long as you're pure Quileute. I think this drink tastes funny. Does your drink taste funny? "

**A/N: I tried to kind of cover all the steps involved with the grieving process: Anger, bargaining, depression, denial, and acceptance. Well… Acceptance isn't quiet taking place here… that takes time**.

**And finally: Enter the 'cold ones'. **


	6. Chapter 6: Forks Hospital

- Wednesday 10am-

"So your okay with this?" Lindy asked Dr. Martens, hesitantly.

"Sure, Lindy I think it would be good for you to get out of here for a while." Dr. Martens smiled, and laughed, "I think it would be really good for Dr. Clark to get some more ER experience anyway."

"He's going to hate my guts," Lindy groaned.

"He'll get over it."

Lindy left Dr. Martens' office and found her way to wait for the Elevator. Teresa came around the corner, holding a lunch tray loaded with salad and mashed potatoes.

"Hey! What's this I hear about you heading up to Washington for a few weeks?" Teresa demanded.

"Well, there's a hospital up there that needs someone to stand in while one of their docs goes on vacation for a few weeks, and well… I need a break."

"Huh. So how'd you find out about this?" Teresa asked cracking her gum.

"Well, its in the same network as our hospital and there were some places, Alden told me about up there, that I wanted to check out. They had the posting on the network, so I called to ask if they still needed some help. They were really excited when I offered to come up for a few weeks, and they are paying me a big bonus. Who could pass that up? Martens was cool with it, she seems excited for me to go too." Lindy shrugged apologetically, as they stepped into the elevator.

"That's right, Alden is from up there isn't he?" Then Teresa winced, "if your gone then that means… we get Clark! How could you do this to us Lindy? You'd better have a good time if your going to subject us to that kind of torture. Where is this vacation spot at exactly?"

"Its on the Olympic peninsula it's a little town called Forks, I hear its really pretty. And you'll just have to train Dr. Clark. Teach him how we do things in the ER." Lindy grinned mischievously. Nurses could be a doctors best friend or your worst enemy depending on how you treated them, and what they thought of you.

"Be careful-Girl, and don't forget who your _real_ crew is alright!" Teresa shouted as Lindy walked through the lobby to the exit.

-Thursday 3pm-

"Hey Alden?" Lindy spoke into the speaker of he cell phone, keeping her hands on steering wheel.

"Lindy! Good to hear from ya. What's goin' on?"

"Well, I'm actually in my car headed to the Olympic peninsula, to work for a few days"

"No kidding? Hey, how about that?"

"So, I was wondering…you know how you told me about your brother and some of his beliefs—" Alden suddenly cut her off.

"Oh, about that… You didn't take me too seriously did you? I mean sometimes when I drink, I just say stuff- its pretty much just talk, don't put much stock in the stuff I told you."

"I know Alden. I am just curious about how things are the reservation. So do you think your brother would be okay with it if I stopped to ask him some questions while I'm up there?" Lindy was nervous that she might not be allowed on the reservation or something.

"I'm sure he'd love to talk to ya. Especially if you'll listen to his stories. I'll call him and let him know a friend of mine will be in the area. Hey let me give you his number and address."

"Well, I'm actually driving right now…. Can you maybe text it to my cell phone or something?"

"Sure that'll work, hey drive careful, and keep us all posted on how things are going 'Kay?"

_-Friday 8am-_

_-Forks Community Hospital-_

"Dr. Daws! Its so great to meet you. Thank you for coming up here to help us out." The tall man who introduced himself as Dr. Gerandy, showed Lindy around the small Hospital. "This is Mike our lab tech, this is Gail from Radiology, Dr. Commet he specializes in pediatrics."

"I'm Carlisle Cullen," a gorgeous blonde doctor nodded at her, although he did not offer his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, if I can do anything to help just ask." His deep brown eyes seemed to convey the sincerity of his words. To her embarrassment Lindy did not seem to be able to respond to his kind words, and simply smiled appreciatively.

Following her quick orientation to the hospital and it's procedures Lindy took up her customary position in the E.R. One fractured femur and two ear infections later she encountered a patient that drew some concern.

"I just tripped on the sidewalk, it's not really all that bad. Dad we didn't really need to come here." The words came from a slight, dark haired girl, who was accompanied by her father who was wearing a police chief uniform.

"Bell, lets just make sure." He father replied patiently.

"Isabella Swan?" Lindy knocked on the doorway before entering the exam room. "The nurse tells me you hurt your ankle."

" I just rolled it on the sidewalk," the eighteen-year-old had pale skin that made her brown eyes appear much deeper.

"Do you mind if I look?" Lindy rolled a sort stool closer and removed the ice pack Isabella was holding on her ankle. A baseball sized lump protruded from the outside of her ankle. It was a purple with dark blue veins running through the side. Lindy felt her mouth pull to one side as she thought about how much this bruise was going to hurt.

"Excuse me chief swan? I need you to verify your insurance information," a rotund nurse poked her head into the room.

"Hmm…Oh… Er…a… sure" the chief seemed to be pulled from some other train of thought as he followed the nurse out of the room.

Lindy spent the next fifteen minutes assessing the range of motion and damage done to the girls ankle. "Well, Isabella—" Lindy began.

"Bella." The girl corrected with a meek smile.

"Alright then, _Bella,_ I would really like to get an x-ray to check for any broken bones, just to be safe."

Suddenly, the curtain across the doorway was pulled roughly aside. "Bell! Are you alright? Where are you hurt?" A strikingly handsome figure slid to Bella's side in a blur.

_He's as pale as Dr. Cullen_, Lindy noted. There was something different about his face, but Lindy could not quite put her finger on it.

"Edward! How did you know I was here?" Bell asked relief coloring her voice.

"Alice told me, found her after first period when you didn't come to school. Do you know how worried I was?"

"How did Alice know?" Chief Swan queried, he had quickly returned to investigate the commotion in the exam room.

"Um Bella called her," Edward's said in a voice that was half-way between a questions and a statement.

"Yes, while you were at the desk," Bella supplied, her eyes looking at Lindy pleadingly.

"We were on our way to the hospital, anyway to talk to Carlisle," Edward finished in a rush. He turned speculative eyes on Lindy, perhaps wondering if she would go along with the lie. Lindy pulled her eyes away quickly, his eyes were too beautiful, and she could not bear to see the happiness between the couple. It was a happiness she felt sure she would _never_ find again.

Chief swan scratched his chin, course hair making a scratching sound, then turned his full attention to Lindy. "What's the Verdict Doctor?"

"As I was telling Bella, I'd just like to get an x-ray to check for any fractures. I'll just check to see if radiology is free." Lindy excused herself and returned to the front desk.

"Could I have Isabella Swans records, please? I need to compare her x-rays." Lindy was handed a stack of folders six inches thick. "Uh… thanks." Lindy, flipped through the chart, taken aback by the list of recent injuries that appeared in the reports.

Lindy turned back to the ER and nearly ran straight into Dr. Cullen. The chart slipped from her hand and her breath came in a gasp. It seemed that he had come from out of nowhere.

"I'm sorry. I did not mean to startle you." Dr. Cullen retrieved the chart and held it towards her politely. "I understand that Isabella Swan recently reported to the Emergency room?"

"Yes, I was just reviewing her record." Lindy responded, willing her startled heart rate to decrease. "It's rather…long," She added as an afterthought.

"Hmm—yes," his voice sounded amused. She is a friend of my family and I just wanted to check to make sure she is okay."

"Oh, I see, um, your son is he…" Why couldn't she finish her thoughts.

"Edward? Yes, Edward is my son he is very close to Bella- we all are." Dr. Cullen seemed to take pity on her recent lack of a brain.

"So there's nothing going on then?" Lindy asked in a whisper.

Dr. Cullen cocked his head to one side concern flashing in his golden eyes. " I am sorry? What do you mean?"

Lindy felt like an idiot, sure that she was not making sense. "Well, all these injuries… is everything okay for her? At home I mean?"

Realization dawned, and Dr Cullen grinned knowingly. "There is absolutely no abuse, if that is what you are getting at."

"Oh. Okay. It's just that well all of this…" She gestured helplessly at the chart.

"I understand. But I assure you Charlie Swan is a good man."


End file.
